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pain

To have something in control of your mind is exhausting and ironically…

hard to control.

You cannot control something/someone that controls you.

You submit.

And it’s the only thing you can do.

You submit so hard that you start believing and creating new feelings and emotions shaped to your controller’s beliefs.

Whether you’ve noticed or not you’ve started destroying and erasing pieces of yourself.

You’ve let your controller take over.

Have you ever watched a movie where a person is being mind-controlled and you’ve wondered well why can’t they just snap out of it with resilience?

But have you realized that the exact same thing is happening to you?

You’re being mind-controlled.

You’re being taken over.

You’re not being yourself.

Would you call that healthy?

Would you want that to keep going on?

Sometimes the thing or person controlling you isn’t always some guy in a cloak with out-of-this-world powers or a hypnotizing object. Sometimes what or who’s controlling you is unaware or not meant to control you, but you’ve let them control you.

I would never want to be selfish and I know that there are people who care about me. But is it worth it?

What have people done to let me stay? Constantly letting me down, breaking promises, and hurting my feelings. You know the only friends that I talk to are on snapchat and I’m pretty sure all of them (except 1) are only talking to me because they want to keep that stupid streak number going.

Isn’t that comforting?

I barely have a life. Do you know that for the majority of spring break I was in this damn house hoping for a little freedom but never getting it? While I had to watch my other friends have a life.

There’s nothing I want more than to tell someone that I’m suffering, but what happens after they “fix” me? Wouldn’t they just leave again?

I have to stop fooling myself thinking that there’s going to be happiness at the end of this roller coaster. In my life, I have never been happy for more than 2 days. How do I fool myself that there’s happiness waiting for me in the future? I’m meant to be sad all my life, I’m meant to suffer through the pain. I’m not meant for this world.

I’m not strong enough to keep pretending that I’m ok. I’m not strong enough to stick around so I don’t hurt the people I love. I’m not strong enough to “roll with the punches.” I’m not strong enough to see what this life has waiting for me.

I’m not having a good day, sadly. My mind has been feeding me dark thoughts throughout this whole day, but those thoughts are nothing but the truth. Or at least I believe it’s nothing but the truth.

This isn’t intentionally because of people or any recent situation.

I was doing okay in the morning then things started to just… go downhill.

I thought about the winter season and I saw this Christmas tree in my mind and how the holidays used to be so happy. I didn’t even realize that the holidays went by so fast I didn’t even have the time to appreciate them. No that’s wrong. My holiday season was so crappy it wasn’t worth remembering. But that wasn’t the only crappy thing. My birthday was crappy. Last summer was crappy. My life is….?

It’s like I force myself to forget how my life actually is to forget the (I wish I could find a better word) crappiness.

My life is just being wasted and there’s nothing I can or am doing about it.

I’m missing all these opportunities because of who I am. My life is just meant to be or at least feel useless. And the only reason I’ve made it through those “crappy” instances was because I kept my hope for a happier future. But now that future just seems hopeless. Will it ever happen?

The only reason I’m still here is hope but what if the hope that I have just turns out to be useless.

Will my life always be like this?

Is there a certain reason as to why I’m here?

Will I be able to live a life worth remembering? Or will doors and opportunities keep shutting on me?

I hate the way that my anxiety makes me feel. It is a 100% true statement. 100%

I’ve been texting Phoenix (the guy I like) a lot lately. In fact, what we’ve been texting has been me trying to get a secret out of him. 2 days ago I told him about my anxiety and he said he likes to be real with the people that he talks to. I agreed to that saying that to be real with someone first you have to trust them.

So since I told him about my anxiety, which is something huge for me, he said he would tell me a deep secret of his. So he played this game with me. We are both such bad repliers (time wise). By this I mean we’re both those people who text like 2 hours later. But he’s worse than me. So he said if I replied fast to him a few times I get to reveal a deep secret of his.

He counted in his own personal percentages. I don’t even know how his rules were. If I replied in less than 10 minutes I got 75%. If I didn’t reply back in at least an hour he would reset it to 0%. Sadly I fell asleep and had to be an extra good replier today because I was for sure not going to lose.

Don’t worry I’m getting to the point of the story… stay with me.

So I did, in fact, get to 100% and got a secret from him. It was equal to my anxiety secret, it was a really emotional secret. And I wanted to be there for him like he was for me, but of course I had to be in my bad mental state when he told me his secret. This morning was a mentally bad morning for me. So bad that I had to run to a bathroom for a second to make sure nobody saw my tears. I didn’t cry for long maybe a minute or two before I composed myself.

And I didn’t know what to do. I just felt the need to vent to someone. I needed to talk to someone. And there he was, I was texting him… So why not tell Phoenix?

Of course, this is where all my overthinking comes in.

We were supposed to be talking about him and I just made the conversation about me. I just had to tell him that I was having a bad day. I had to make it about me.

Why does my anxiety do this to me??

He said he’s a good listener and that he will be there for me whenever I want to tell him something. But why am I getting this overwhelming feeling that I’m bothering him?!!?? I. HATE. This.

And then when he replied about 2 hours later he said something along the lines of the reason we text each other is to talk. Tell me so I can hopefully help you and if I can’t then I’ll pray for you. What’s wrong Rebecca. He wrote out my name.

I told him and I apologized so much saying I hate making this about me. I hate talking about myself too much.

I don’t want to burden him with fixing my problems. I don’t want him to make it feel like I’ll be like this whenever I have a bad day. I just don’t want to bother him.

Why does my anxiety do this to me?

He literally told me, in his own words, that he’s here to listen to me and that he wants to know what’s wrong. If all this proof is evident, why am I still so doubtful?

Why does it overwhelm me? Why whenever I think about the situation I have to stop my mind to stop thinking about it because it bothers me because I think it bothers him?

And it really doesn’t help my situation that he’s the worst replier (time wise) on the planet.